


Smores, Interrupted

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beaches, Day At The Beach, F/F, F/M, Marshmallows, Multi, Ocean, S'mores, Sticky, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: There's so much to do at the beach, and there's no one you'd rather go there with.
Relationships: Jane Crocker/Dirk Strider, Jane Crocker/Roxy Lalonde, Jane Crocker/Roxy Lalonde/Dirk Strider, Roxy Lalonde/Dirk Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Polyswap Presents 2020





	Smores, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/gifts).



> "I'd love very summer sweet kind of vibes with these three. Maybe a sleepover, lazy relaxing from the heat, maybe swimming in the pool together, camping, maybe they make smores, sunbathe, go to the beach, build a sand castle. Very sweet fluffy togetherness."

"Roxandralia Lalonde. I am going to carve out your appendix and drop it into the Marianas Trench."

You have to stifle a snicker! Dirk's attempt to look serious—an expression that usually works quite well for him—is somewhat interfered with by the molten marshmallow currently plastered to the side of his face and streaked over his hair.

" _Jane_ ," Dirk says, and he sounds legitimately distressed now! It can't help that Roxy's actively laughing at him. " _Jane it's in my hair_."

You're very well aware that it's in his hair! It's spectacularly hilarious, and you wish he looked so undignified far more often. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Is your first response, relying on years of media training that somehow still fail you in the face of all of this. "Perhaps—perhaps a brief dip in the ocean, yes?"

He scowls at you, and Roxy tips over laughing. You're pretty grateful that you'd decided to set up on the sand, by the thunk her head might've made if you were already back at the campsite. "I already washed off the saltwater once, Crocker, going back in—"

"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen! A crab mistakes your delicate widdle feetsies for a tasty snack?" Roxy's sitting upright again, her grin in full force. "Come on, I don't even see how this is more embarrassing than you tripping on that seaweed and landing ASS FIRST in our sand castle!"

Dirk growls, and—in a moment of stopped-time-seeming madness—lunges for Roxy, scooping her up into his arms and lift-throwing her even higher when she wiggles. "If I'm going for a dip, you're coming in with me, Lalonde."

"Dirk!! No!! Noooooo!! Janey, come save me—"

"See you in the water, suckers!" You're already tugging off your borrowed hoodie (sometimes their clothes just smell so much safer than yours) and sprinting towards the open ocean. They'll be fine! Neither of them are wearing any clean clothes, the fire's safely banked, and last one in is a rotten egg anyway, sooooo!

Dirk, the ultra-competitive, yelps and bolts after you, Roxy's laugh cutting off every now and again as he bounces her in his arms. "Jane Crocker! Get back here!"

"NOPE!" You plunge straight into the waves, still warm from the slow-setting rays of the summer sun, and Dirk (and Roxy, by proxy) hurry after you. By the time they catch you up, you're floating blissfully in the silky glass of the water, and Roxy's been set free to allow Dirk a better chance to swim. "Fancy meeting you lot here!"

Now you're the object of Dirk's glare, and you're amused and delighted to be there. "We're in the ocean, and it is _night_."

"I promise I won't let anything hurt you," you tell him, and when you see the flicker in his orange eyes, you paddle a little closer and scoop up one of his hands. Roxy, meanwhile, drapes an arm over his shoulder and scoops up your other hand, a soft smile on her face.

There's a heartbeat of silence, the three of you revelling in this—being able to spend time together under the stars, to enjoy the sea, to build sandcastles and toast marshmallows and camp out under the open sky—then Roxy throws her head back and laughs, breaking the silence into little stars that fall all around you.

"This would be the _perfect_ time to try dunking him again, you know! Or playing chicken!"

"We don't have enough people to play chicken," Dirk says automatically, with all the self-assurance of someone who's been the younger sibling for a damn long time. "And if either of you dunk me, I will scream at a register only dogs can hear. It'll be embarrassing for all of us."

"Damn," Roxy says, heaving a great sigh and feigning serious disappointment. "Guess we'd better not, then!"

"I've got another idea," you offer, and shimmy your way out of the hug until your feet touch the ground. They're still watching you curiously, which means you've got the initiative advantage here—you turn back towards them, scoop one bae up in each arm, and start heading back for shore. Dirk yelps—not at the register he was threatening, but pretty damn close—and Roxy loops an arm around your forehead, cheering as if you're the prized steed she's chosen to ride into battle.

"You guys are the absolute _worst_ ," Dirk says, but you can hear the laughter in his voice, and you grin to yourself, hoisting him even higher as you make the long trek back to shore. It's not until the water drops away from your waist that he starts getting wiggly. "Okay, okay! You proved your point, you could take us _both_ in a fight. Now put me down."

"You're like a _kitty_." Roxy is absolutely delighted, reaching up to fluff Dirk's damp hair like he's ready for skritches. You make a mental note to never tell him that he tipped into the affection. "Omg, Janey, isn't he like a kitty?"

"I don't think I'm at liberty to answer that," you say, putting Dirk down—for now—but keeping your hold on Roxy. "Besides, give it a few hours and you'll come up with another animal to compare him to!"

"Fair enough," Roxy says blithely, waving the hand that isn't still wrapped around your head. "Onward, good madam!"

Dirk looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You tip backwards and drop Roxy right in the surf.

Really, it's the only fair response here, and it means starting a splash fight that you _absolutely_ intend to win.

Later on, the three of you set up your campsite, well off the sand that'll get in Dirk's hair, well away from the crabs that seem to be inexplicably attracted to _Roxy's_ toes, far from the waves that might rush up unexpectedly over you when the tide will change. You lay on your double-sized sleeping bags that you've zipped together, stare up at the stares, name constellations after anything and everything that comes to mind—and it's a certain kind of perfect. It just feels right.

You think you'd be okay with a life like this.


End file.
